I Found a 12-Year-Old Girl Hiding in a Closet. She'd Been Missing for 3 Years. And She Knew My Name. s1791
I Got a Text From a De.a.d Woman at 2:47 AM. What I Found in Apartment 7B Still Haunts Me
CHAPTER 1: THE FIRST MESSAGE
The phone buzzed at 2:47 AM.
I was halfway through a cold cup of coffee, staring at the security monitors in the lobby of the Crestview Apartments. Twelve floors. Forty-eight units. One entrance. Easy work for a night guy with insomnia and a bad knee.
The message was from a number I didn't recognize. No area code. No contact name.
She's not alone in there.
I set down the coffee. Looked at the screen. Looked at the monitors. Unit 7B was dark, same as it had been for the past three hours.
I typed back: Who is this?
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
Check the cameras. Floor 7. You'll see.
My hand moved to the mouse before my brain caught up. The hallway cam for the seventh floor flickered onto the main screen. Empty. Beige walls. Bad lighting. A dead plant near the elevator that nobody had watered since spring.
I was about to type nice try, asshole when I saw it.
The door to 7B was open. Just a crack. A sliver of darkness against the hallway light.
I hadn't seen anyone go in. I hadn't seen anyone go out. I'd been sitting in this chair for six hours, and the only movement on that floor had been Mrs. Patterson taking out her trash at 9:15.
The phone buzzed again.
You should go up there. Before it's too late.
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✨ Continue to Part 2 👇
